I Believe In You
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: The mere thought of life without Emma made Snow's stomach heave and her heart clench with a sharp, heavy pain. She could not lose Emma again. Not now. Not permanently. (or, the Charming Family and Captain Swan attempt to process Emma's visions)
1. Snow

**Author's Note:** I am completely loving the angst and Charming Family/Captain Swan stuff this season! And in the wake of Emma's forced reveal of her visions, I got an idea to do a collection of perspective pieces, much along the same lines as my "Aftermath," of each character dealing with Emma's seeming future. This will more than likely be a bit more angsty than is typical of me, simply because of the material, but there will be plenty of family moments to be had. Each chapter takes place in and around 6x05 and the title comes from the Vertical Horizon song of the same name. Feedback makes my little day! Enjoy. :)

* * *

It wasn't fair.

Snow White had lost her daughter twice now. Once when the Curse was descending, the dark clouds roiling and heavy with magic outside the bedchamber windows, and Snow White had handed her minutes-old daughter to her husband. She'd watched, sobbing, as he carried their precious baby girl from the room to send her to safety, far away from the Curse and wherever it was going to take them. It was the right thing – the _only_ thing – to do for their little girl, no doubt about that, but it was a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing choice to have to make.

Twenty-eight years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye and when the Curse broke and Snow awoke from its clutches, memories returned, she'd found her baby girl, her precious Emma. Her precious Emma was no longer a baby, though. She was a grown woman who had become Snow's own best friend during the weakening of the Curse. A grown woman who still bore the scars of a brutally lonely childhood. The only thing that gutted Snow more than all the years she missed with her baby girl was the knowledge that her baby girl had grown up so unloved, so unnurtured, so alone.

And then, a few months after they were reunited, Snow was faced with losing her a second time. This time it was a reversal of the Curse, done to stop an even more unspeakably dark Curse, but the end result was still the same. Once again, Snow found herself kissing her precious Emma goodbye and sending her to the safety of another realm. And once again, it was the right thing – the _only_ thing – to do for her little girl but it was also once again a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing decision.

The only silver lining Snow had been able to find in those two instances was that Emma was going to be all right. Losing her hurt like no other pain Snow had ever felt but knowing that she was out there somewhere, safe from the ravages of the Curse, kept her from tumbling over the precipice into despair.

And now Snow was faced with losing Emma for a third time. Only this time, there was no silver lining to be had. There was no sending her to safety. Because this time, it wasn't a Curse taking her away. It was destiny.

Her precious Emma's death at the hand of a hooded figure had been foretold by prophetic vision. The mere thought of life without Emma made Snow's stomach heave and her heart clench with a sharp, heavy pain. She could _not_ lose Emma again. Not now. Not _permanently_.

It wasn't _fair_.

Snow looked up from the cocoa she was brewing, her eyes landing right on her little girl. Said little girl was curled into the corner of the sofa, her knees up and heels on the cushion. Henry had tucked himself into her side and in response, she'd wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Killian sat in the armchair closest to her, as if guarding her with his very presence. None of them were talking; words couldn't help but they were trying their best to comfort each other in silence.

"How are you holding up?"

The soft voice startled her. She whirled around to find her husband standing beside her, a freshly changed baby Neal cradled in his arms. She just shook her head, unable to answer his question with words.

"Yeah, me too," he sighed, a small, sad smile on his lips. A heady silence settled between them as mother and father both tumbled into thoughts they didn't want to think.

Charming was the one who broke the silence, shifting closer to his wife and pressing a kiss to her temple. "We'll figure something out, Snow. She's not going to ..." The sentence trailed off, as if he couldn't bear finishing it. Then he set his shoulders and affirmed, "Not on our watch."

Snow's gaze drifted to her precious baby girl once more. She'd closed her eyes, her head resting against Henry's. Snow could see it now, the exhaustion weighing down on her little girl. Fear and tension radiated from her and Snow wanted nothing more than to hug her and hold her until all that tension and fear melted away.

The worst part was, Snow had had her chance to hug Emma and hold her tight and she'd blown it. Her baby girl had needed her mother's comfort and Snow, still reeling from her daughter's secret, had only given her guilt instead. "Oh, David, I was too hard on her," she murmured, sudden despair leaking into her tone.

The expression on Charming's face shifted from one of gentle comfort to one of worried confusion. "What do you mean?"

Snow tore her gaze from her husband's and refocused on the cocoa. If she wasn't careful, she was going to burn it. "When I was talking to her in the bedroom, I told her she should have told us. She admitted she was scared and I didn't comfort her. I didn't hug her. I just told her she should have come to me. And then … then I may have insinuated that Killian wouldn't forgive her for keeping this from him."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband wince. Snow winced herself. Oh gods, she'd royally stepped in it, hadn't she?

"Of course he'll forgive her. I once kept pretty much the same secret from you and you forgave me, didn't you?"

Snow closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping. "Yes, I did." She remembered now, those days in Neverland when Charming had been dying and hadn't said a single word. Those days when the magical waters that had saved his life had also condemned him to an eternity on that godsforsaken island. She remembered how angry she was when she found out, how lost she'd been at the thought of losing him. Of living without him.

But she had forgiven him. She'd forgiven him even before their precious baby girl had found the solution to keep them all together. Hell, she'd forgiven him even before she'd made the decision to stay with him for eternity if need be.

She'd forgiven him because she loved him, simple as that. Snow still had no idea, though, why Charming had kept the poisoning to himself. She had no idea why Emma had kept her visions to herself.

A glance at Charming proved that he did know. He knew exactly what had gone through his little girl's head when she tried to handle the visions on her own because he'd done almost the exact same thing. "Help me understand," she said, a tiny touch of helplessness creeping into her voice.

Though he wasn't at all privy to her meandering thoughts, Charming seemed to understand her question. He gave her a tender smile while fixing her with loving eyes. "Firstly, facing your own mortality is _terrifying_. I remember how scared I was and I didn't want to put that fear on you or Emma. I didn't want you two to be sad. And if those were truly my last days on this planet, I didn't want to spend them with everyone worried and sad and scared. Once you knew, everything between us would change. Everything would be heavier and sadder and there would be this pall over everything and maybe it was selfish but I didn't want that."

Snow blinked back the tears that had welled in her eyes and shifted her gaze over to her little girl. The thought of Emma going through the same thought process her husband did absolutely gutted her. There again was that urge to run into the living room, gather her daughter into her arms, and just hold her tight and never let go.

"Emma keeping her visions a secret wasn't about trying to lie or trying to keep it from us maliciously," Charming continued, his own gaze drifting over to Emma. "It was about trying to protect us. She just wanted to preserve our happiness as long as she could."

Oh, her poor sweet baby. Her little girl had lived with the knowledge that her early death was prophesied for all those days and hadn't said a single word so as not to worry her family.

Another incident bubbled up from Snow's memory banks then, a day seemingly a lifetime ago when she herself had kept a secret from her family. In the wake of Cora, heavy guilt had forced her to Regina's house, where she'd begged her stepmother to crush her heart. To end her pain. Snow hadn't breathed a word of that plan to her family, either, even though she absolutely should have.

She'd been afraid that voicing it would make it real. Talking about it would only enforce it. Talking about it would mean she had to face it head-on, face the guilt and the pain and the remorse. So she hadn't said a single thing.

And all of a sudden, Snow understood. She understood how Charming could have kept the poisoning a secret and she understood why her little girl hadn't told anyone about her visions.

Oh, she needed to talk to her precious baby. Now.

Her eyes shining with unshed tears, she looked up at her wonderful husband. "Will you finish the cocoa for me?"

And her wonderful husband smiled as he gave her a proud nod. "Of course." After shifting little Neal to his hip, he took the whisk from Snow's hand and once again kissed her temple. "Go."

Snow smiled a thank you to Charming before turning away, taking a deep breath, and approaching the sofa. Emma, who'd opened her eyes at her mother's approach, seemed to know instinctively that Snow wanted to talk. She lifted her head from Henry's, squeezed his hand, and murmured something into his ear. With a nod, he shifted out of her personal space so she could stand. Emma gave a gentle touch to Killian's shoulder, a silent way of telling him she'd be right back, and then followed her mother back into the downstairs bedroom.

The two of them perched side-by-side on the edge of the mattress on Snow's side of the bed. "So," Emma said somewhat awkwardly, "what's up?"

Snow gave her baby girl a smile in an effort to set her at ease. "First of all, I wanted to apologize for earlier. Of course Killian will forgive you. He's head over heels in love with you, Emma, and that doesn't go away just over some hurt feelings."

The relief washed over Emma like a wave; the tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders visibly melted away. Once again, Snow winced. She'd given that stress to her baby girl but at least now she was helping take it away. "Secondly, I wanted to tell you something. Back after Cora, I went to Regina and begged her to crush my heart."

Emma sat at attention, her eyes wide, eyebrows to the ceiling. "What?! Why?"

"I couldn't bear the guilt. I didn't tell anyone, not even your father. I-I thought I could fix it. I thought that I could handle it on my own. And I thought that telling everyone would make it real."

Sudden comprehension flooded Emma's features. "So you understand."

Oh, yes, Snow now definitely understood why Emma had kept her visions to herself. "I do, Emma," Snow said, grasping her little girl's hand in her own. "I didn't at first because telling someone when you're in trouble seems like such an easy thing. But I know that telling someone isn't always as simple as it sounds. I'm sorry if what I said earlier didn't help or made things worse. I just … wanted you to know that you can always come to me with whatever is bothering you."

At that, her Emma – her poor sweet Emma – looked up at her, tears welling in her eyes. Snow could see the conflict still warring within her, the independent adult who was used to handling things on her own versus the lonely little girl who wanted nothing more than for her mommy to make it better. And it was a testament to just how far Emma had come from the walled-off woman who'd first arrived in Storybrooke that the little girl won this round. "Mom," she whispered, her voice hitching in her throat, I'm scared."

The tears Snow had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over as she did what she should have done earlier and gathered her little girl in her arms. For a long beat, the two of them sat there in the embrace, tears of fear and anger and injustice dripping down their cheeks. And when Emma nestled her chin on Snow's shoulder, something inside her shifted.

No. She was not going to lose her daughter. Not again. Not permanently. "We're going figure this out, sweetheart," Snow murmured into her little girl's ear, her voice strong and determined.

Emma nodded before pulling out of the embrace. Her eyes were rimmed with red and Snow longed to just hold her until all those tears were dry. "I need to ask you a favor."

"Anything, baby."

"Henry and Killian … if it does happen, will you make sure they're okay?"

A fresh wave of tears burned Snow's eyes. "It won't happen, Emma."

"But if it does."

It wasn't going to, period. There simply was no other option. Still, it was clear that Emma needed the reassurance, needed to know that her family would be taken care of if she wasn't around to take care of them herself. So Snow cupped her baby girl's cheek in her palms, swallowed the lump in her throat, and nodded. "Of course, Emma. You have my word."

Fresh tears leaked out of Emma's eyes as she threw her arms around Snow in a grateful/ hug. And Snow held her tight while silently vowing to find a way to change her baby girl's fate. No one was going to take her daughter from her again, not if she had anything to say about it.

When she said as much to Emma, her sweet baby girl whispered, "I know." Determination was in Emma's tone now, making Snow smile.

All they needed was to keep that faith, that determination, and everything would work out in the end. Emma had spent the past few years fighting tirelessly for everyone else's happily ever afters. Now it was time to fight for hers and Snow vowed to help her in every way she could.


	2. Charming

**Author's Note:** You guys are the best! Thank you for the reviews and follows and favorites. Here be the Daddy Charming part! Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

In one moment, Charming's world came crashing to a halt.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't _breathe_. His little girl – his pride and joy – had seen visions of her future, one that was cut tragically short ...

His stomach churned at the mere thought. Emma was his _baby_ , his firstborn, his little girl. She was his light in the darkness, a perfect mix of both him and Snow. Stubborn – maddeningly so, at times – and fiery and full of life and of love. She brought the color to his world and he could not – _would_ not – imagine life without her.

A hooded figure, she'd said. A hooded figure was going to take her from them. She hadn't been able to see who was wearing the hood, which meant they had no clue whom to avoid. Any battle she charged into could be her last.

So now they all knew what was coming but they didn't know when and they didn't know all the major players. What the hell good was getting a vision of the future if there seemed to be no way to avoid the outcome? As it stood, this vision was just … cruel.

Charming wanted nothing more than to confine her to her house for the duration but he knew he couldn't. His little girl wouldn't stand for it, which, as far as he was concerned right now, was one of the more maddening ways her stubborn side showed itself. He just wished he could make her see – make her _understand_ – that he didn't think he'd survive having to bury his little girl.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did just that. In Hook's hand was the one thing that could guarantee Emma's survival. A pair of golden shears, used to separate one from one's destiny. And Emma wanted to _get rid_ of it.

For the second time that day, Charming couldn't breathe.

Oh, he trusted her completely but he would have been lying if he'd said that he hadn't wanted to yell at her in that moment. He would have been lying if he'd said that he hadn't wanted to put his foot down and insist with all the paternal authority he had that she keep those shears.

He believed in his family, of course. He believed they could beat her vision. On the other hand, belief was not certainty but the shears … they were a _guarantee_. They were a sure-fire way _to save her life,_ to stop her vision in its tracks, and she wanted to throw them away.

"Emma, are you sure?" he asked softly.

"Yes," was her a little too immediate answer.

A large part of him wanted to pull her into a hug and hold on tight and make her understand that he would much rather she be alive than the savior. It took every ounce of willpower he had but he silenced that paternal instinct and agreed to her plan.

He could _not_ lose her again. Both Curses had taken her from him and as a result, he'd missed close to three decades of her life. And now fate wanted to take her away from him permanently? No. He refused to let her go again, not on his watch.

Sudden movement at Charming's side drew him from his reverie. Henry had gotten up from the table to make a fresh batch of cocoa and Snow wasted not a moment in plopping down in his vacated seat. She grasped Emma's hand and squeezed, offering her little girl a comforting smile.

Emma returned both the squeeze and the affection but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It took less than a second for both Charming and Snow to realize that their baby girl – their pride and joy, their light in the darkness – was _petrified_.

She was so afraid of what the future held. Afraid that she was making the wrong decision. Afraid that she was making the right one. Charming exchanged a glance with his wife, their shared heart telling him that she was feeling every ounce of fear and guilt and pain that he was.

They both wanted nothing more than to wrap their little girl in their arms and tell her everything was going to be all right. And what made it all the more gut-wrenching was that they knew that their little girl was far too grown-up to believe that her parents could make everything better.

But damn it, Charming could try. Emma was putting on a brave face, mostly for Henry's benefit, so if Charming wanted to try to get her to speak her mind, he needed to do so in private.

While Hook and Regina mildly argued about the best disposal site for the shears – Regina was currently pushing for opening a small portal and sending the shears through to a completely different realm and Hook was advocating for letting them sink to the bottom of the sea – Charming rested a hand a tender hand on his little girl's shoulder.

She looked up at him and gods, she looked so _young_ that he couldn't stop the barrage of mental images. Flashes of the little girl he'd never known, rambunctious and cheeky with her mother's curls and her father's coloring, flitted in his mind's eye. Flashes of the young teenager he'd seen on that video she'd showed them when the Snow Queen was still in town, defiant and damaged but still with so much love to give, if only she could find it. He saw flashes of the woman he knew, the hugs and the comfort and the cheeky sass and the love she now gave freely. And he saw flashes of things that now may never come to pass: walking her down the aisle on her wedding day, Henry with a little brother or sister, Emma welcoming her grandchildren.

How was this fair? How was this Emma's happy ending?

How could he even possibly begin to live without her?

Charming didn't know what expression had come over his face during the last few moments but Emma seemed to realize the he wanted to talk to her alone. With another squeeze of her mother's hand, she excused herself from the table and led him up the stairs to her old loft bedroom.

She looked around for a moment as if committing the details of the room to memory. A small smile curled on her lips. "You know, this was my first real bedroom. It was my first real home. The other places were just … places to live but this … this was home."

It was the last thing Charming expected to come out of her mouth and as such, it hit him like a ton of bricks. His poor, poor little girl. Unable to resist the paternal instinct coursing through his veins, he pulled her into a hug, his palm bracing the back of her head, and held on tight.

His baby girl melted into the embrace. The two of them stayed in the hug for several seconds, taking comfort in the simple act of being a dad and his little girl. Then Emma pulled away, sniffled, and said, "So, what's up?"

Once again Charming was struck by how utterly young and scared she sounded. "Just seeing how you're holding up," he replied, his tone gentle.

"I'm all right," she said, giving a halfhearted shrug.

It was a lie. He called her on it in the gentle way only a father could. "It's just that I've been in your shoes, Emma. Back in Neverland with the dreamshade, remember? I've faced a death sentence, too, and I am not at all ashamed to admit that I was terrified."

She sank down on the edge of the mattress as if all the energy keeping her standing had drained from her. "I don't want to die, Dad."

Charming's heart clenched in his chest. Gods, what he wouldn't give to spare her from this entire predicament. All he wanted was for his little girl to be healthy and blissfully happy and to live a long, fulfilling life. "You know, it's perfectly all right if you want to use those shears, kiddo. No one will think any less of you for it. You've fought for everyone else's happily ever afters. It's only right that you go after your own."

"Yeah, well, mine doesn't seem to be in the cards, does it?"

There was the slightest tinge of anger in her tone, which Charming was glad to hear. That anger, that sense of injustice … that was what would give her the fight she would need to beat her vision. "It's your call, Emma, obviously, because it's your future. But we're not giving you up without a fight. I am not losing my little girl again. If getting rid of the shears is your play, I will back it one hundred percent but that also means I'm going to fight even harder to stop that vision of yours from coming to pass. I know you don't want to die, Emma, and we don't want you to, either. We love you, kiddo, more than words can express and we want you in our lives."

Emma's eyes glistened with unshed tears. For a long beat, she just stood there, looking as if she'd never had such strong affection and determination leveled in her direction. (And knowing what little Charming did of her upbringing, she probably hadn't. It was a thought that gutted him every second of every day.) Then the tears spilled over as she practically collapsed into his waiting embrace like a little girl who just wanted her daddy to make everything better.

"Shh," Charming murmured to her as he wrapped his arms around his little girl in a hug. "It's all right, Emma. We're going to figure this out." She didn't say anything. She didn't even move. "Emma? I need you to believe that, all right?"

He felt more than saw her nod. "I do. I believe in us."

"Thank you," he murmured.

He held her for a long beat before she seemed to come back to her senses. She pulled out of the embrace and ran her hands over her face. Charming smiled and dried her cheeks with his thumbs. She gave him a sheepish smile and once again he could see the little girl he'd never known. He would have dried all her childhood tears in pretty much the exact same way.

Good gods, he could not lose her again. He'd only had her in his life such a short time as it was. He wanted to see her grow old with him and Snow. He wanted to watch her help teach little Neal his ABCs. He wanted to watch her send Henry off to the prom and he wanted to see the beautiful bride she would make.

He wanted more than anything to have his little girl in his life for a long, long time.

"Dad?" she asked, her soft voice bringing him back to the present.

"Yes, Emma?"

"You'll be all right, won't you? You and Mom and Neal, I mean. If … if it does happen."

"It won't," he insisted. One look in her eyes made him understand that his daughter needed this. She needed the reassurance, needed to know that her family would be all right if the worst came to pass. "But in the off chance it does, we'll be all right. It may take a while but we'll be all right. And we'll make sure Neal knows all about his big sister."

She smiled, swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking back tears. "Good."

"But it won't happen, Emma. Remember, I need you to believe that."

"I do," she promised.

A proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked over his strong, courageous, amazingly wonderful daughter. "That's my girl."


	3. Killian

It never failed to boggle Killian's mind how quickly things could change. That morning, he'd woken his Swan for a wonderful and leisurely (for them) home-cooked breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and cinnamon toast. (In an effort to add a little bit of balance to the meal, he'd added a slice of grapefruit to the plate as he set it down in front of her. She gave an indulgent roll of her eyes and although she ate it, the couple of teaspoons of sugar she sprinkled onto the grapefruit undercut the nutrition of it a bit.)

That morning, they'd been happy. That morning, it felt like their happily ever after was finally falling into place. Not even eight hours later, it had all fallen apart.

Emma had finally revealed what she'd seen of her shortened future. Countless emotions had coursed through Killian's veins in that moment. He'd been hurt that she'd kept it from him. He'd been angry with the universe that had decided her fate. He'd been upset for her family. He'd been devastated for her. But mostly, he'd been scared.

Losing her would be torture. He'd lost enough. _She'd_ lost enough. He didn't think he'd be able to survive if she ...

So he'd done what he could to stop it from happening. Oh, he'd gone out to sea with every intention of letting the golden shears sink to the bottom as Emma had asked. However, once he out there with his arm stretched out over the murky depths and the shears in his hand, he couldn't seem to make himself release them.

He was holding the one thing that was _guaranteed_ to save his Swan's life. He could _not_ let them go.

He'd wanted to do as Emma asked – what Emma had trusted him to do – but he simply could not open his hand and watch Emma's salvation sink to the bottom of the sea. After a brief but agonizing moment of deliberation, he'd tucked the shears back into his jacket and headed back for shore. He hadn't the slightest clue what he was going to tell Emma – if he was even going to tell her at all – but in that moment, he was convinced he was doing the right thing. She didn't want … she didn't want to die, and he wasn't going to bloody let her.

When Killian stepped over the threshold of the house after securing the _Jolly_ to weather the storm that was rolling in, the warmth of the fire Emma had already gotten roaring in the fireplace greeted him first. The sweet and spicy scent of a brewing batch of hot buttered rum hit his nose second, making him inhale deeply. "I hope you're in the mood for greasy," Emma called from the kitchen by way of a greeting when she heard the front door open and close, "because I already ordered bacon pizza."

Despite everything that had happened over the past couple of hours, Killian smiled. Oh gods, how he loved her. "Sounds perfect," he assured her as he stepped into the kitchen.

She briefly turned away from the rum to smile at him. "I mean, I can feel my arteries hardening as I eat it but bacon pizza is _so_ good and after today, I think I deserve it."

She certainly didn't need to justify her choice of meals to Killian. If bacon pizza was going to make this horrible day even somewhat better for her, that was good enough for him. "You most certainly do, love. What do you say we eat in front of the fire tonight?"

"That would be perfect."

Killian smiled again and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. Then he reached up into the cabinet for plates and mugs for their dinner.

He left the mugs on the counter for her and took the plates into the living room. After a moment of deliberation, he grasped the blanket that normally resided on the back of the sofa and spread it out on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"Like an indoor picnic," Emma said from the doorway. Killian turned around as she stepped into the room and handed him a mug of rum. "How's this?"

He took a quick sip and coughed as the alcohol hit his throat. "Too strong?" she asked, wincing.

She'd certainly made this batch a lot stronger than she normally did and as such stronger than he was expected but he figured, much like the bacon pizza, she was allowed tonight. "No such thing as too strong for a pirate," he teased. "It's perfect."

After gracing him with a soft smile, she plopped down on the blanket and stared at the fire. He followed suit, sitting down next to her. For a while, the only sounds were the building winds whistling outside and the soft crackling of the fire. Then Emma heaved a sigh and said, ""Killian, I'm so sorry."

Killian blinked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. Why was she apologizing? She'd already done so for not telling him of her visions sooner. "For what?"

She shrugged somewhat uncertainly. "It's just that you could be in paradise right now. I mean, actual literal paradise." Her eyes glistened with unshed as she reached a hand up to caress his cheek. "You could have moved on with your brother. You could have moved on after we defeated Hades. Why did Zeus send you back here, back to _me_ … just for our second chance to end like this?"

Oh, his poor Swan. "First of all, none of this is your fault," he assured her, his voice strong with determination. "Second of all, it's not going to end like this. I … _we_ need you to believe that. You're putting your faith in us, in your family, and I need you to believe that we're not going to let you down."

"I know you're not," Emma said, looking him in the eye. Then she shifted her gaze back to the crackling fire. "I'm just … I'm scared."

Oh gods, so was he. He was terrified that they wouldn't be able to figure something out, terrified that her vision was going to come true despite their best efforts. That was why he'd held onto the shears in the first place.

"I am, too," he admitted softly, "but your parents and Henry and Regina all love you, Swan. They're going to fight for you with everything they have. And I love you, too. What I told you in Camelot still stands, love. I will never stop fighting for us. I'll never stop fighting for you. And I'll never stop fighting for our happy ending."

She looked at him for a long beat, searching his face for comfort and strength. Then the tears in her eyes spilled over as she melted into his waiting embrace. Killian wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

And for a long moment, he just held her while committing everything about this moment to memory. He never wanted to forget the way she felt in his arms, the way soft strands of her hair tickled his nose, the way they breathed in time with each other. He never wanted to forget how it felt to comfort her, to hold her, to just be with her.

They only broke apart when a knock on the door startled them. "That must be the pizza," Emma said, pulling out of the hug and wiping her eyes. She sniffled back the rest of her tears, pushed herself to her feet, and headed to the door. Any further conversation, it appeared, would have to wait.

After eating their fill of pizza and drinking their fill of hot buttered rum, Emma and Killian relocated to the sofa by silent agreement. Killian did not at all mistake the smile in his Swan's eyes when he retrieved the blanket they'd been using for their indoor picnic and spread it out over their legs. A moment later, she took full advantage of the coziness he was offering and tucked herself into his side. Since he could never resist an Emma snuggle, Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed another kiss to the side of her head.

They sat in silence, letting the warmth of both the fire and each other comfort them. It wasn't long before the heaviness of the meal, the warmth surrounding her, and the exhaustion of the day combined to make Emma drowsy. As soon as her head began to nod, Killian slouched down on the sofa so she could more comfortably lean against him. She followed the motion and rested her head on his shoulder.

She fought the descending exhaustion for a little while. Only when Killian murmured softly in her ear to stop fighting it did she finally let her eyes close.

This right here … this was bliss. And it gutted Killian more than words could express that it was fated to come to an end.

After letting her settle for a few minutes, he brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and checked on her. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully; her features were relaxed and her breathing was deep and even. He was going to have to wake her up to get her to bed eventually but he could let her sleep for now.

Her sleep hadn't been peaceful in a while but at least now her nightmares made sense. Ever since he moved in, he would wake in the night to find her tossing under the covers. She never wanted to talk when he woke her but he always stayed awake until she went back to sleep, just in case. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for her to deal with a secret of that magnitude on her own.

Oh, part of him was indeed hurt that she hadn't confided in him but a larger part of him understood why she'd kept it to herself. Hell, here he was, mere hours later, doing a similar thing. He'd done so out of protection, to preserve her happy ending in any way he could. She'd simply done the same.

While he thought, he allowed his fingers to toy with the curling ends of her hair. His heart swelled with such strong love and adoration every time he was near her that it caused an almost physical pain to think about living the rest of his life without her. He'd barely survived losing Liam and Milah; he couldn't even contemplate …

No. That was why he'd kept those shears. He wasn't going to lose her. Henry wasn't going to lose his mother. The prince and princess were not going to lose their daughter and the young royal was not going to lose his big sister.

She wasn't going to go anywhere, not if he had anything to say about. She couldn't.

But there was that niggling little voice in the back of his mind that couldn't help but ask, _But what if she does?_

There would be no cheating death this time, no rescue mission to the Underworld, no last-minute miracles, no gods of gods to bring her back from the dead. If death came for her, it would take her and there would be no getting her back.

Killian hadn't realized that tears had welled in his eyes until he felt them, hot and salty, dripping down his cheeks. He sniffed back the rest of them and withdrew his hand from Emma's hair to dry his cheeks.

Emma stirred at his movement, causing him to wince. He'd hadn't meant to drag her from her peaceful sleep, especially considering she hadn't had enough of it lately. "Apologies, love," he said, clearing his throat in an effort to keep the emotion out of his voice when she blearily blinked her eyes open. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep so we're even." She sat up and rubbed her eyes. As she woke up a little bit, she spotted the red rimming his eyes. She reached her thumb out to caress his cheek, taking the last of the tears with it. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Emma. I was just thinking … what you said before, about how I could be in paradise right now? I'm already in paradise because my paradise is right here in this house with you."

Emma stared at him for a long moment before leaning in for a tender kiss. "I love you," she whispered when they broke for air.

"And I love you, Emma," he murmured in return, "more than you will ever know."


	4. Henry

"Thanks for this, Mom," Henry said to Regina as she pulled the car up in front of his other mom's house. "I know we'd planned on me staying over tonight but after today ..."

"You want to spend time with Emma," Regina said softly. She reached her hand out and gently cupped his chin in her hand. "I completely understand, Henry. You two need each other right now. Take care of her, all right?"

"I will," he replied, giving her a soft smile. Then he climbed out of the car and hurried up the porch steps. He turned to wave to Regina before stepping through the front door of his mom's house.

Well, his mom's and Killian's now, he supposed. And his, too, just like he and Killian had planned in Camelot. Sometimes Camelot seemed like forever ago and sometimes it seemed like it was just yesterday. They'd all been through so much since then and how here they were, going through this.

It wasn't fair.

Now inside the house, the front door closed behind him, Henry could smell the faint scents of pizza, bacon, and hot buttered rum still lingering in the air. "Mom?" he called as he kicked off his shoes and tucked them in the corner by the door. "Killian?"

"In here, kid," Emma called from the living room. Regina had texted Emma to let her know Henry would be coming back for the night so she wasn't at all surprised to hear his voice.

"Is that bacon pizza I smell?" he asked as he followed his mom's voice to the living room. She and Killian were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa now but the single blanket spread out over both their legs told him that they'd more than likely been snuggled up together before he came home. On the one hand, he didn't want them to feel like they couldn't cuddle in front of him but on the other hand, he was grateful he was being spared the PDA.

(Killian and his mom could be cute, don't get him wrong, but he was thirteen and being subjected to his mom's PDA was kind of awkward.)

"Yep," Emma said in response to his question about the pizza.

"I believe there are a couple slices left," Killian informed him, nodding towards the pizza box that was still sitting on the coffee table. "It's cold now but–"

"That's the exact opposite of a problem," Henry said excitedly as he whipped open the box. Sure enough, two slices of greasy deliciousness in the form of bacon pizza smiled up at him. He grinned, snagged both slices, and plopped down in the armchair to eat. With a smirk, Emma handed him her empty plate and then wordlessly turned on the television.

For a little while, the three of them sat in comfortable silence while some old sitcom played on the TV. After a few minutes of canned laughter, though, the events of the day came back to weigh heavily on Henry's mind.

He nibbled on the pizza while casting occasional glances over at his mom. She seemed to be all right, at least for the time being. She was chuckling along with the TV, at any rate. Killian, on the other hand, kept looking over at her, too, as if simply keeping his eyes on her would keep her here with them forever.

Henry didn't want her to die. He didn't want to imagine life without her. How was good supposed to win if being the savior meant suffering an early death? How could the savior get her happy ending if it was stolen from her before her time?

It wasn't fair _._

He was old enough now to know that sometimes life just wasn't fair but he also knew that heroes and villains were real and that fairy tale justice was real, too. Good won battles and evil lost battles all the time but this? This felt like evil winning the war and it just wasn't _fair_.

And even though Emma had told him earlier that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help thinking that if he'd just left well enough alone, she'd be safe right now. He was the one who dragged her into all this in the first place. She'd been safe and unaware and he'd gone to get her and he'd brought her here and she'd done so much good already and she didn't deserve what was coming.

Henry knew she'd said she wouldn't change a thing. He knew she'd reminded him of all the things he'd given her by bringing her here: a home and parents and a son and a baby brother and True Love. And he wanted so badly to believe that everything was going to be okay and that things would work out all right and she'd be perfectly fine but he wasn't a little kid anymore and he knew that sometimes things didn't work out all right.

Emma had told him not to think about the ending of the story but he just couldn't help it. He was scared and he didn't want to lose her. He wanted her to teach him how to drive, to help him figure out how to ask Violet to the prom, to be there in the front row when he graduated high school. He just wanted her to be okay.

Now itching to talk to her, Henry glanced over at her again. She seemed to be relaxed now, though, and he didn't want to upset her all over again if she'd somehow managed to set it all aside for a little while.

As if she could feel his eyes on her, Emma turned her head and caught his eye. He tried to wipe the worry off his face and give her a smile but he must not have been quick enough. She smiled kindly at him, gave him a little nod, and then shifted her attention to her pirate. "Killian, will you do me a favor?"

All it took was one glance from Emma to Henry and back again for Killian to realize that she must have wanted to talk to Henry alone for a moment. "Anything, love."

"Somewhere in one of the boxes we haven't unpacked yet, there's a special deck of cards for a game called Uno. Will you see if you can find it for me, please?"

A touched smile pulled at Henry's lips. He and Emma hadn't played Uno since before the Curse broke the first time! As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure the deck in question was his. He'd left it at the loft one day by mistake but told Emma she could keep it when she tried to return it to him.

Though Uno was one of Henry's favorite games, Killian had clearly never heard of it. "U-N-O?" he asked, his brow furrowing in slight confusion. When Emma nodded, Killian pushed himself to his feet with a smile. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Emma murmured.

Only when they could hear the upstairs floorboards creaking under Killian's feet did Emma turn to Henry. "I figured we could play a couple rounds before bedtime. If he can find them, of course."

"I like it," Henry said, that soft smile still on his lips. Playing Uno with Emma and Miss Blanchard had been one of his favorite things when Emma first came to town. He was sure playing it with Emma and Killian would be just as fun.

Emma smiled back, then took a deep breath, held it a beat, and asked, "How are you holding up?"

Henry blinked in surprise. She was the one with the vision of her life coming to an untimely end running through her head and she was asking him how she was doing? He remembered Regina's instruction to take care of Emma and shored up his courage. He needed to be strong for her, to not upset her any more than she already was. "I'm doing all right."

She looked at him with such motherly love and tenderness that it made his breath catch in his throat. "You don't have to sugarcoat the truth for me, kid," she told him softly. "I'm well aware that this sucks."

It was as if her words broke some kind of spell. His face crumpled as he threw his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around him and just held him.

God, he was going to miss this. He was going to miss _her_.

For a long moment, he indulged his tears. Then he took a couple of deep breaths and managed to rein them back in. "I'm scared, Mom," he whispered into her ear.

"I am, too," she admitted, "but I'm not giving up without a fight, Henry. I need you to know that. I'm going to try everything I can to stop this from happening."

"I know you will." Henry pulled out of the hug and sniffed back the rest of his tears. "And I need you to know that we will, too."

"Oh, kid, I know you will and I can't thank you enough for that." Emma reached a hand up to dry her own eyes before swiping the last of Henry's off his cheek with her thumb. Something about the gesture touched him; he'd seen his gramma and grampa do the same for Emma more than once. "You're the one who told me that good always wins in the first place, you know. We're going to win this one, too. And I believe you also once told me that there's always a low moment before the hero fights back."

"I did," he murmured. He had said that back when she was going to leave Storybrooke and he was trying to get her to believe. He'd almost forgotten.

"Well, I think this qualifies as the low moment."

That was an understatement if ever he'd heard one. "So now we have to fight back," he smiled.

"Exactly."

Though Henry couldn't quite tell how much, if any, of what she was saying was simply bravado for his benefit, he did indeed feel a little better.

"You all right for now?" she asked.

"Yeah." And he was. If anyone could find a way to beat the seeming fate of all saviors, it would be his mom and his family.

A successful Killian came back downstairs a moment later, the wayward deck of Uno cards in his hand. "All right, I give. What in blazes is this game?"

"It's kind of self-explanatory," Emma said as she shook off the rest of her emotions and reached her hand out for the deck. "All you need to know right now is that it's simultaneously ridiculously fun and frustrating as all get out. You're going to _love_ it."

Henry chuckled while Killian arched an eyebrow. "I guess we'll see about that, won't we?" the pirate teased as he settled back down beside Emma.

As Emma shuffled the cards, she sent a silent look Henry's way to make sure he really was all right. He nodded at her and smiled. This still really sucked and he was still really scared but if Emma could put her trust in her family to help her find a way out of this, so could he.


	5. Emma

**Author's Note:** Yes, this is the second chapter in as many days but it just came out on its own so I figured it wanted to be told. It's also the last in this little perspective piece, so I hope you've enjoyed the story! Thank for you the reviews and follows and favorites; y'all are the best. :)

* * *

Emma Swan heaved a soft sigh as she turned her head to check the time. Her sigh turned into a quiet groan. It was two in the morning and she hadn't slept a damn wink since crawling into bed over three hours ago.

As her impromptu nap after dinner had proved, she'd certainly been tired enough to sleep earlier. Hell, she was still tired now. She wanted nothing more than to let oblivion take her away for a little while but unfortunately for her, her brain had other ideas.

It simply refused to shut off. All she'd done since drawing the blanket up to her chin was run the day's events over and over in her mind's eye. That was not at all how she'd planned on her day going when she got out of bed this morning. If she could have had her own way, her family would never have known about her visions at all. All knowing about them would do was worry everyone. With life the way it was in Storybrooke and beyond, sometimes it felt like all they did was worry. She hadn't wanted to add to that.

And yeah, some of her reasons for wanting to keep her fate a secret were selfish, too. If everyone knew, that would make it real. She wouldn't be able to pretend it wasn't happening on the rare occasions she managed to make herself forget. And if everyone knew, everything between them would change. Everything they did, everything they said, it would all be tinged with sadness and worry and fear.

So no, she hadn't wanted them to find out at all but to find out the way they found out? Archie spilling in front of everyone had been bad enough but then to find out it had been the Evil Queen in disguise? Emma's stomach had started roiling then and hadn't really stopped since.

Now everyone knew. Now it was real. And now everything was different.

For example, Snow had called her earlier to say good night. Normally they traded good night texts out of deference to their now somewhat separate lives. A phone call to the apartment could potentially wake a fussy baby Neal and a phone call to the house could interrupt any number of things so Snow had started texting instead of calling the first night following Killian's return from the Underworld. Tonight, though … tonight she actually called.

And it wasn't just her mom. David got on the phone next, wishing his baby girl sweet dreams. He even held the phone up to a sleepy little Neal's ear so the little squirt could babble his own good night. If they couldn't be there with her physically, they apparently at least wanted hear her voice and let her hear theirs.

In another example of things behind different now, Henry had fought going to bed in a way he hadn't since Emma first returned from the Enchanted Forest. Sometimes it seemed like he'd grown up so much since then but sometimes she would be reminded that he was still very young, too young to have to deal with some of the things that had happened in recent years. Tonight he'd kept pushing for more and more rounds of Uno until the three of them were practically falling asleep over their cards. Only then had Henry finally agreed to go to bed and he'd sounded so very young and scared when he asked Emma to stay until he fell asleep.

She'd done so, of course, because how could she deny him? He was scared and she was the reason he was scared. Plus, she'd needed that time with him, too, time to commit everything about him to memory and hold onto the moment for as long as she could.

After Henry was asleep, Emma had headed into her own room and curled up under the covers with Killian. Even though the day had been long for both of them, it had taken him a long time to settle into sleep. Her back was pressed against his chest and she could feel the tension in his body, as if he were trying to keep himself awake so he could savor every last moment. She could hear the hitch in his breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check. Only when Emma reached behind her for his arm and snake it over her hip did he relax, burying his nose in her hear so he could breathe her in. He'd finally drifted off then and he still held her now, his arm draped across her stomach even in unconsciousness.

But Emma still couldn't sleep. All she'd done in the three hours since sliding under the covers was stare at the ceiling and try to get her brain to shut the hell off.

She was scared, _really_ scared. She didn't want to die. After all those long and brutal years of loneliness, she finally had everything she should have had her entire life. She had family and friends and love and comfort and support and togetherness and now it was going to be taken from her? Because of some stupid destiny she'd never asked for and didn't even want a good majority of the time?

It wasn't _fair_.

Sudden anger burned inside her, itching for release. She couldn't stay in bed anymore. Very carefully, she lifted Killian's arm from her stomach and slipped out of bed. After making sure she hadn't disturbed his slumber, she crept from the bedroom and headed downstairs.

How could it end like this? She'd saved everyone else's happily ever afters and for her troubles, she was destined for an early death? Why put her through everything she went through – her childhood and the darkness and the Underworld and having to leave Killian there – just to have it end like this?

Why did her kid have to grow up without his mom? Why did her parents have to bury their daughter? Why did her baby brother have to grow up with only stories to remember her by? And why send Killian back here, back to a future with her, if that future wasn't meant to be?

Hadn't they all given enough? Hell, hadn't Emma herself sacrificed enough? Why did being the savior come with a damn death sentence?

As if on autopilot, she'd made her way to the kitchen. She'd had every intention of soothing herself with some cocoa – from a packet, unfortunately, solely because of the hour – but she stopped short when she realized that the plates and mugs from her and Killian's pizza-and-rum dinner were still soaking in the sink.

Rather than dirty another mug, Emma supposed she could wash out one of those for her middle-of-the-night cocoa. She reached for one but her anger, now at release point, took control. As soon her her hand touched the cool porcelain, she grasped the poor unsuspecting mug, spun on her heels, and whipped it at the wall with an aggravated grunt.

The mug shattered with the most satisfying smashing sound. It was so satisfying a sound that the second mug joined it a moment later, its broken pieces falling to the floor to join those of its brethren.

Emma had just wrapped her hand around one of the plates when strong arms wrapped around her from behind. "Shh, love," a soft, accented voice whispered in her ear. "It's all right."

Something about his voice – so soothing and so perfect and good God how could she lose him? – brought her crashing back down to Earth. The anger dissipated in an instant and in its place now resided heavy, heavy anguish and grief.

Tears Emma hadn't even been aware were forming now trickled down her cheeks. A sob escaped and Killian's arms tightened around her in response. He gently guided her down until they were both sitting on the floor. "Let it out, love. It's all right, just let it out."

And she did. She cried for all the things she should have had but didn't. She cried for all the things she was going to miss. She cried for her parents having to lose her a third time, she cried for Henry and little Neal having to grow up without her. She cried for Killian and the future they wouldn't have. And she cried for all the things that might have been, all the things that now would never be.

Throughout it all, Killian held her and murmured soft words of encouragement into her ear. It seemed like it took forever but eventually her sobs dwindled to choked hiccups, sniffles, and heavy breaths. Only then did Killian release her and shift around so he could see her face. "There we go, Swan. I was wondering when you were going to have your meltdown."

That got her to chuckle. She sniffled back the rest of her tears. "I'm sorry my meltdown woke you."

"There's nothing to apologize for. As a matter of fact, I'm glad to see this."

"You're glad I had a meltdown?"

The look on his face was one of complete sincerity. "No, of course not. I would give anything to have spared you this entire situation. I meant I'm glad you feel the anger and the injustice of this every bit as we do. It means you're not accepting your seeming fate. It means you'll fight it with everything you have."

"I will." And oh God, she would. She did not want to lose this. She wanted her own happily ever after.

"I know you will. And we'll be right beside you, Swan, every step of the way. If some grand destiny wants to take you, it's going to have to go through your parents, your lad, and me first."

And right there was the support and love that the lost little girl inside Emma could have only ever dreamed about. "And me, too."

Killian smiled at her before drying her cheeks with his index finger. "Aye, and you, too. Suffice it to say, some anonymous hooded figure wielding a sword has their work cut out for them, getting to you."

Emma smiled back. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now what do you say we try to go back to bed, hmm?"

"I should clean up the mess–"

"The mess can sit until morning." He pushed himself to his feet first then grasped her hand and helped her up off the floor. "Come, Swan. You must be exhausted."

And oh God, she _was_. Her outburst had finally pushed her over the edge. As Killian walked her back upstairs, she released a soft breath. It was the epitome of cheese but Emma was putting her trust in the power of love. She had every belief that the love of her family could beat anything because, as she'd learned, love was strength.


End file.
